


For My Prime

by A_Writer_of_Whimsy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Consensual Sex, Devotion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hero Worship, M/M, Spike and Valve Mechanics, Stress Relief, mentions of blowjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21700699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Writer_of_Whimsy/pseuds/A_Writer_of_Whimsy
Summary: Bumblebee knows sometimes Optimus can't ask for what he wants. When he notices the tense backstruts and sharper voice, he'll go to the Prime's office for a "debrief."
Relationships: Bumblebee/Optimus Prime
Comments: 1
Kudos: 160





	For My Prime

Bumblebee sank onto the Prime's spike slowly. He moaned as the large spike stretched him to capacity, but he managed to get most of it within his valve. Optimus' fingers dug into his hip plates, but that's all. Bumblebee huffed hot air against the windshield chest of his Prime, fogging up the glass. When he contacted with the lap he was straddled on, Bumblebee shook in his plating. Optimus Prime didn't move beneath him, allowing Bumblebee time to adjust. It was always overwhelming, edging on a bit too much to handle. He pushed himself up, until the tip of Optimus' spike was barely in there, and sank back down again. Optimus groaned, his hands grasping harder. 

"You know you need this," Bumblebee said in a breathless voice, "and you know I'm always here, Optimus." Bumblebee wanted to mention Prowl and Jazz, who were also very willing to come inside this office. Prowl liked to get on his knees and take the Prime into his mouth. Jazz was quite comfortable with spiking. Optimus often had both of them in his room when there was a lull between attacks. He couldn't get the words out, with his charge already building up inside his array. 

"I know," Optimus leaned forward to kiss the top of Bumblebee's head, "but I get busy and just...caught up in it all." 

Bumblebee nodded. He started rocking back and forth. He enjoyed making Optimus feel good. He, like most Autobots, loved the Prime. He loved him a little differently than the others, though. Many of the soldiers saw him as some unbreakable titan, an icon and god avatar all rolled into one. Bumblebee saw some of those qualities at first, too, but he also saw the real Optimus.

He saw the late nights spent pouring over ration logs. He saw the mech cradling a broken Prowl to his chest and begging him not to go into stasis on a battlefield. He saw Optimus' glowing eyes staring at him across a room, never daring to ask a fellow soldier. No, instead Bumblebee stayed aware of the tense backstruts, if Optimus cracked his voice like a whip, or if he withdrew from everyone to be alone. 

That's when he came here, always after a mission, for a "debrief."

He took his time, letting his charge slowly build up. Optimus occasionally pushed his hips forward on the down stroke, hitting back deeper, but other than that he was perfectly content to let Bumblebee take the lead. There was something arousing about it, a Prime letting a little mech like himself just ride him until he was satisfied. Optimus brought a hand back to squeeze at his aft and Bumblebee moaned in appreciation. 

Optimus' breaths were hitching. He was getting close. Bee opened his thighs a little wider as best he could between the arms of the office chair. He ground his hips down, creating shallow thrusts with his hips.

"That's right, I know what you like," Bumblebee said. "Come on, big guy, I want you to let it go. Come on." 

Optimus tilted his head back. Bee locked his knees in place. He used Optimus' shoulders for leverage and fragged himself harder with the Prime's spike. With a shout, Optimus came, gripping Bumblbeee tightly to him. His spike pulsed deep inside of Bee. He was so close, but not quite there. He knew Optimus would finger him after, he always wanted Bee to come. For Bee the overload wasn't the point, but getting Optimus like this, loose and stress free. He liked to think he was milking some of the stress away when he took the Prime's transfluid inside. 

Optimus picked him up gently and settled him onto the office desk. With two fingers, he managed to get Bee off not long after. 

When it was done, Optimus cleaned them both off. He tucked Bee into his arms, and they sat there in silence. Eventually, they'd have to go back to fighting a war. For now, Bee considered his most critical of missions a success. 


End file.
